Spinning on the Edge
by DarkenedSakura
Summary: Done for the 30 angsts themes challenge on lj. Thirty ways they broke each others' hearts. Thirty ways their romance was fated to be sad. [KatsushirouKirara] [COMPLETE]
1. your love is such a tease

**Spinning on the Edge  
For the 30 ANGSTS challenge  
By DarkenedSakura  
Themes #1-5 (you're cynical you're beautiful/your love is such a tease)**

**1. Broken (killing for the sake of killing)**

"…And so, I will protect you, Kirara-dono. I'll protect you all."

She stares at him, at the gleam in his eyes, at the way his fingers flex towards his sheathed katana. She suddenly grabs his arm and holds onto it so that he looks at her fully. The lethal light in his eyes is still there.

"Please, Katsushirou-sama, please don't break and lose yourself in killing…in this," she says with a certain desperation in her voice. "Don't kill for the sake of it."

"I don't," he says, a catch in his voice. "I kill for you. To protect you. To protect everyone."

_Do you really? Have you lost yourself already? What proof do I have that you haven't turned into a monster?_ her eyes ask, voicing everything that she does not – cannot – say.

_I'm not, I'm not, why can't you trust me, when did you stop believing in me, when _did_ you believe in me?_ he replies in the same way, silently, disbelievingly, failingly.

Another fear to fall between them, like all the others.

It would never change, and they both knew it.

* * *

**2. Toys (for when you die I'll be there for you)**

Sometimes he wondered if he was just a pawn in a game of the gods, to be moved around on a board, to capture and take and call check and retreat. Sometimes he wondered if he was a plaything, a toy of the forces above, a hand puppet to be used in mocking, scathing plays to satisfy their sadistic view of entertainment.

Sometimes he wondered if they maneuvered the pieces around him so that everyone would be sacrificed and nobody else would be left when he died, to be there with his final breath, to provide support when he fell, to be there so that he wasn't the only one still standing.

Sometimes he wondered, believed, wanted to believe that he was dreaming and he was dreaming and he was still dreaming and hadn't woken up yet because that would explain the haunting feeling that he was so aware of.

Then he would look at her and realize that it was all too true.

* * *

**3. Hand phone; cell phone; mobile phone (a call from heaven)**

In his excitement, Heihachi nearly toppled over as he ran down the hill towards everyone. He barely stopped in time, holding his hands out to avoid smashing the object he grasped while trying to move his legs farther faster than his arms.

He mostly failed, falling into an ungainly heap at the group's feet, but at least the device was saved by rolling out of his now outstretched hands.

Katsushirou bent down and picked it up. "Eh? What's this?"

Heihachi sprang up on his feet, dusting himself off and laughing nervously. "Ahahaha…oh, I made it when I was tinkering with some of the leftover parts over there and from some gadgets left behind by the enemy. It's slightly primitive, but it should work."

The other samurai looked quizzically at the object. A long cord coiled from two dome-shaped pieces into a box with several knobs and things on it. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Talk into it! No, not that one, the other one. You should be able to hear everyone from the other side of the village in that one, and they should be able to hear you too."

"Huh?" He tapped the piece he was speaking into. "Hmm…it's not working."

"That's strange," the orange-haired man frowned. "I left the other one with the villagers…" A second passed, and then Heihachi started to fiddle with the object. "Hmm, that's not right…" he muttered to himself as he turned several knobs on the box.

After watching him for a few moments, Katsushirou blinked before furtively picking up the device and holding it to his ear.

"…zzhrgrckurCHZRR – "

"Euh!" he yelped, nearly dropping it.

"Ohh!" Heihachi rushed to it like a mother separated from her newborn child. "It's not broken after all!" After a moment of jubilation, he went back to fiddling with the box.

"…hello? Hello?" a faint voice chirruped from the receiver.

"Wow, it really works…I can hear someone!" Katsushirou exclaimed.

"Hello? Katsushirou-sama, is that you?" the other voice flowed out, less staticky than before and far clearer in quality.

"K-Kirara-dono?" he stuttered in a flush.

"Wow, I can really hear you! This is amazing!"

"A…Aa, yes," he managed to say, focusing entirely too much on how her voice sang out without her actually being here next to him, while every single beautiful note remained perfectly intact. Like the sound of chimes.

She had continued to babble on; her excitement would not ease. "This could be so useful! I'm sure Kambei-sama will be able to use it. Where is he? We should tell him!"

Katsushirou lowered the hand holding the receiver, letting it fall to his side. The sound of chimes was far off in the distance now, fading quickly.

"…and then we could…hello? Hello?"

He turned around. Kambei was standing behind him, an unreadable expression on his face.

There was a pause, broken only by the crackles and the "Hello?"s from the receiver dangling in Katsushirou's hand. Stoically, the young samurai held out the phone to Kambei.

"She's calling for you."

* * *

**4. Angels and Devils; Disguise (wings stain with blood)**

Katsushirou wondered, was he really evolving, or was he just changing what he revealed of himself to the world? So many things were happening and he knew he was growing, adapting to everything; yet every time he thought about it, it felt…unnatural. It was as though he was growing a mask, little by little, something that made him seem and act and sound older, more mature. Bolder, less emotional, more cautious, less compassionate. More like the others. Less like himself. He hid in his growing mask, keeping the remaining fragments of himself behind it. He hid behind his sword as the blood splattered all over him, keeping it between himself and the rest of his fears.

But _she_ was drawn to it, to this new him, to the fusion of the paradoxes in him – or was it just that one side of him was slowly fading away, being taken over and usurped? – to the element in him that made him seem so much more…more like…Kambei-sama.

Yet, while she followed Katsushirou and stayed by his side, her eyes followed Kambei. And when her eyes started to follow the younger samurai as well, her heart – or was it her not nearly rational enough mind? – followed the other one instead. One was becoming more and more like the other, and the other grew more and more distant, continuing to drift away.

Still, she couldn't choose between them. Or rather, she knew what her decision was, had made it a long time ago, but couldn't think about it. Couldn't remember it. Didn't really know it anyway.

She was heading down a path of self-destruction, but she couldn't bring herself to stray from it at all.

* * *

**5. True Love (seeking for you)**

"Ne, nee-chan?"

"What is it, Komachi?" she replied, her attention on the fresh flowers she was transferring to glazed vases.

"How do you know if you've fallen in love?"

Her hand stilled, holding several daisies. "…Why would you ask me that, Komachi?"

"Because you're in love with somebody, right?" She grinned at the red spreading across her sister's cheeks.

"K…Komachi…why would you want to ask that, anyway?"

Her sister's face took on a more petulant look. "I'm just curious. I wanna know what to look out for…when it happens to me."

"Well…" The mikumari maiden placed the flowers into the last of the vases and then straightened. "It just happens. You're with him and you walk with him and you get just a little bit nervous before you try to say anything, sometimes. And then you just think about him, and it just happens little by little and you end up thinking about him so much, and then…" she blushed. "You'll know when it happens."

"What about if you're really happy whenever you're with that person? As in, really REALLY really happy?" her sister questioned, waving her arms around a bit. "What about then?"

"Then..." She glanced back at her younger sister's face and she just had to say something. "Yes, maybe you're in love with him then. It's not love if it doesn't make you happy, right?"

"And how do you know if that person loves you back?" Komachi asked.

A pause.

"I…wouldn't really know," she wanted to say. But again, after seeing her sister waiting in such anticipation, she couldn't help but lie. "Well…if that person looks just as happy being with you, and if that person likes talking to you and…well, if you believe he does, then I'm sure he does."

A light like nothing other shone from the young girl's face. "Really? Really really, nee-chan?"

Kirara smiled, and bent down to look her sister in the eyes. "If _you_ love this someone, I'm sure he'll love you back, Komachi."

"Waaai…thank you, nee-chan!" she exclaimed joyously before running outside.

Kirara smiled again, though now it was a rueful smile. Nothing she said applied to herself; love was magical, promising, and would never let you down, according to this version.

She knew she didn't know if she was in love with someone, because there were two.

"He'll love you if you love him, Komachi, because you're so pure." And you know what you want, and you understand and you know what you have. And you understand.

She probably didn't even know what love was herself. It was the only way to explain how she felt, to explain the answers that she gave.

She would give anything to learn what true love was, just to stop the agony ripping herself apart.

* * *

Vocab notes: -sama is a very respectful way to address someone, and -dono even more so, though it's somewhat archaic now. Nee-chan is an endearing way/one of the ways to say "big sister". 

Yes, I'm aware at this point that #3 (hand phone) is slightly AU, as transmitters and the like apparently did exist in the series and therefore Heihachi could not have invented even a primitive phone, but hey. I liked it.

So, I've been out of the writing game for ages…and then I discovered these things called themes communities and amazingly, I started getting inspiration like whoa that wouldn't leave me. So I wrote. The 30angsts challenge was screaming for someone to write Katsushirou/Kirara as they are the perfect example of an angsty romance…thing, so yes. Er, I can't believe I'm doing romance, though. First time it's a fic that doesn't go under "general" or "drama". Yeah, I'm scaring myself now.

Each piece might be on any of the optional themes or the alternate themes (the ones in parenthesis), so yes. Feedback is loved, and oh yeah, disclaimer…S7 doesn't belong to me.

Many thanks to xuemei (rasetsunyo) and malinear, two awesome betas that put up with me going "arrrrrgh this sounds bad argh no this sucks ergh what do I do?" with most of the themes and helping me out with that. You guys rock so much.


	2. you're monochrome delirious

Summary, in case you didn't see it (yes, it's kind of late, but meh): Done for the 30 angsts themes challenge on lj. Thirty ways they broke each others' hearts. Thirty ways their romance was fated to be sad.

Hm...I guess #8 has mild spoilers, but if you haven't gotten that far in the series (I forget where it is, but...maybe eps 18-21, not sure?) then you won't get it anyway, so I think it's okay.

**Spinning on the Edge  
For the 30 ANGSTS challenge  
By DarkenedSakura  
Themes #****6-10 (you're monochrome delirious)**

**6. Curiosity (listen to your heart cry)**

He was glad that his guard duty shift finally ended. Now he was just going to go and –

"Really, you should know, nee-chan!"

"Komachi!"

The voices being a little too close for comfort, he followed what his reflexes did – sidestep and duck behind a tree. A little voice in his head reminded him that it was probably Not A Good Idea, but too late, anyway.

Just his luck that the mikumari sisters had to be out right now.

"It'll make him sad, you know."

"I…" A pause. "I promised him that I'd be there for him. I'd wash away the blood, I'd tend to the wounds, I'd share the burden of his sins. It was my fault, you know."

Never your fault, Kirara-dono, never your fault.

"But I…I never expected him to turn it down. He said he couldn't let me do it…"

A tsk-tsk sound. "He cares for you, nee-chan, don't you know that?"

"Well, I – "

"Eh, you didn't?"

"Well no, but…no, I did know, but – "

"You might as well just tell him, nee-chan. You'd be happier. You know he likes you." He could imagine her grinning cheekily as she said this, or perhaps saying it with a stern and serious expression, or at least a young girl's attempt at one.

"…Maybe I should." And then, footsteps.

Damnit.

He moved away as discreetly as possible. Knowing him and his luck, that probably wasn't very successful. But he didn't hear anyone calling out "Katsushirou-sama, we know you were there," and he hadn't made any obvious sounds, so…for now, he was in the clear.

But what had that been about? Did she really…?

He tried to put it out of mind, because there really wasn't a point to getting worked up for nothing, but he felt a small smile spreading across his face.

--l--

Komachi had been frowning.

And Kirara was now stuck in her thoughts. "I should tell him. I can't let him…believe in a false romance. And I should tell…_him_…that I…"

The young girl showed no sign of being surprised, but sighed a little. It was a shame.

* * *

**7. Interest (crying for you one last time)**

"Taken an interest in her, have you?" the old lady smiled, interrupting Katsushirou's thoughts.

"Not…really…" he muttered, though she didn't have to be able to put two and two together to know which young woman walking down the path had gotten his attention for a fleeting moment.

"Well, I'm sure she likes you too," she smiled.

"I think you're mistaken," he said without hesitation.

"Why? You look good together. It's obvious she likes one of the samurai, and I believe it's you – "

She was wrong. He'd had enough time around his companions to know. He might never be exceptionally observant, but he'd lost some of his obliviousness about these things anyway.

" – Why wouldn't she like a fine young man like yourself, eh?"

He turned away. "The one she has her eyes on…isn't me."

* * *

**8. Articles; Newspapers (broken promise)**

"I'll be there, to clean away the blood, to take care of your wounds, to share the burden of the sin that you carry." She made the promise.

"And I can't allow you to share my sins with me." He had broken it.

She would not have cared for him enough to keep it anyway, and he would have cared for her all too much to let her stay.

So it was best that they let each other go.

* * *

**9. Hide-and-Seek (shattered heart)**

Sighing, he slowed to a stop and sat, leaning against a sturdy tree. The day was almost ending and dusk would come soon, so surely the others wouldn't need him for today. Hopefully. Well, he'd finished his duties anyway, so who knows. If they really needed him, somebody would find him. But for now, he'd rather have it so that nobody would. He'd rather not be around the others right now, especially not K – "

"BLEH!"

"Euh!"

Thankfully, he hadn't jumped.

Komachi grinned widely, as usual. "Katsunoji, whatcha doing? Are you hiding here?"

"No…"

"Well, you look like you're hiding to me! Are you playing hide-and-seek with us, Katsunoji?"

"No, I'm not, I – "

"Hey, he said he's playing with us!" she called back over her shoulder, presumably to her friends.

"Now we'll have _two_ samurai playing with us! Awesome!"

"Er, Komachi, I'm really not – "

"Don't be silly, Katsunoji. Of course you're playing with us! You can't get out of it now!"

Sigh.

--l--

"EH? Why do I have to be the seeker again?" Kikuchiyo bellowed in a puff of smoke.

"Because!" the children said with that Komachi-grin.

"Besides," said the girl herself, "you can't hide. You'd stick out too much!"

"What does that mean!" he replied with more steam, his bright red metal body clanking as he raised his fist.

The kids giggled. "Fine, we'll let Katsunoji seek with you! That way, you won't be lonely!"

"Komachi…you…"

"Quick, everyone, let's run and hide!"

"Waaaaaaaaaaaa!" they cried as they tumbled into the underbrush.

Katsushirou blinked. It hadn't been five seconds and they'd already disappeared.

The large red samurai clanked as he started to walk forward, still steaming, though Katsushirou couldn't tell if he was seriously grumpy or not. "That Komachi…I'll show her this time. Meh, I'll find them all. Then I'll show them how a true hider hides," he said, directing the last part to the foliage around them.

A flurry of muffled shrieks and laughter was the response.

Though he shouldn't have been able to tell, Katsushirou could've sworn that the mechanical samurai was grinning. Widely. "Er…"

"So, Katsunoji!" He started marching towards a rustling tree to their left. "Why are you here, eh? Did Komachi drag you into it?"

"Aa…I was sitting behind a tree, and she said I must've been playing hide-and-seek with them and dragged me here…"

"Eh. You're at that tree a lot lately. What's up with that?"

"…I wanted to forget." And with that, he walked into the bushes.

Kikuchiyo cocked his head to one side. "Eh? What's up with him?"

* * *

**10. Messenger (you belong to no one)**

The storm came without warning. One moment her pendant was clear, and the next the pieces in it swirled around as though an unseen chaos had just struck.

Outside, everything was clear and dark for more than a moment too long before the rain came down. That could only mean one thing, that what the pendant recognized was a different storm…

She tightened her fist, hoping it didn't mean what she thought it did.

--l--

When the messenger arrived, he stood in the doorway drenched from the elements. His hands were soaked through with blood, red slowly dripping down and leaving clean trails behind, red pooling on the unstained wood at his feet.

"What is it?" she questioned, her voice already growing fierce from the fear and the knowing of the fear and the knowing, but mostly from the knowing.

Red falling down in little drip-drip-drips. "The…the samurai-sama…"

No I don't believe you it's not possible it's not possible he's too strong to die – "Who is it?" she asked, trying not to let her resolve break.

"Many are injured, and one…he is…" His face contorted, as though he could not force the words out, could not believe it was true.

"Take me to him."

--l--

He was sitting, holding his breath and clutching his side when she found him.

"K-Kambei-sama, your wound…let me clean and wrap it," she said determinedly, moving towards him with the strips of cloth she carried. Was this all that the messenger meant? She had been so worried that he was mortally wounded, but he wasn't, and so…

"I am not dying," he said in a voice too devoid of feeling. "The one you should be tending to is not me."

"But…"

"Go to him," said Kambei. "He won't last."

"He…won't?" What? What did he mean?

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, old and weary. "He could have remained unscathed, but he chose to take most of the cut and threw his life away…wasn't fast enough to deflect the strike like he meant to…"

It couldn't be…

She hesitated for a moment, and then bolted.

--l--

When Kirara finally stumbled upon him, she was at a loss for words. The crimson that spread across him, gashed his limbs, tore at his body, seeped into the rock and dirt around him…it was too dark, far too dark.

She tried to speak, to say his name, but nothing came out except for a sound akin to a strangled hiccup.

He stirred. "K…Kirara…dono?"

No, no, no… "Don't talk, you'll just make your wounds worse," she scolded sharply while trying to think of something – anything – to stop the bleeding. Perhaps if she just applied pressure, then…

The color of death poured all over her hands in its blackened glory. Her eyes widened, but she kept trying to staunch the flow from the wound. It was as effective as trying to stop the flow from a faucet with one finger.

"Ki…rara…dono…stop. It's too late…can't…"

Please no please no this isn't happening – "Stop talking. The others from the village…they'll be here soon, and then…"

His eyes had started to look glassy. "…Do you think…I was foolish?"

Yes. Yes you were foolish look what you did look what _happened_ to you – "No….no, I don't, but – "

"Stop." He grimaced now as a convulsion swept through him. "One last thing…to say…"

She choked. "When we get you back and take care of you, you'll be able to talk again as much as you want – "

" – Too late for that…just wanted…to say…" He coughed violently, hacking up blood that ran down his face and throat in red rivulets. "Kirara-dono…I…you…I…"

She leaned in to catch his last whisper. "…cared for you…so…you…" Kirara tried to say something – and were those tears welling up in her eyes? – but he merely smiled, one of sadness and resignation. He held up a finger to her lips. "Don't say…anything…I don't…regret…"

Her vision grew watery, and when she opened her eyes again, she reared up and sat upright in her futon. Breathing heavily, she looked down at her trembling hands.

Just a dream. Just a dream.

And then she looked from Kambei to Katsushirou back to Kambei and didn't understand at all. She buried her head under the covers, hoping that by tomorrow she'd forget everything, the dream and all of her thoughts that came after that.

Sleep was a long time in coming again that night.

--l--

* * *

Katsunoji is what Komachi, the other kids, and Kikuchiyo tend to call Katsushirou. Kirara tends to berate them (or rather, at least the kids) for not saying "Katsushirou-sama" and being all respectful.

Just to clarify again, I did not make these 30 themes; they're from the 30angsts challenge. Just to get that straight since there seems to have been some confusion over that.

And to explain the whole 30angsts (or any themes challenge for that matter) thing, here's how it works. With some communities it might be different, but in 30 angsts, there are 30 themes with multiple choices separated by semicolons, and alternate themes for each number in parenthesis. You can do either one or the theme and the alternate if you want, and for some of mine you can see that I do both themes at the same time, if you squint. You sign up with a pairing and the goal is to write or draw all 30 themes. You could make a 30 chapter fic with all the themes if you want, but I'm just doing 30 vignettes. And there are 5 bonus themes that I'm writing as well, though I could've replaced any of the themes I wanted to with those if I chose to. And all themes have to have "angst" in it, interpreted however you will.

How I've defined angst? According to the dictionary: a feeling of anxiety, apprehension, or insecurity. Other ways I've interpreted it: well…you know, angst. Sad stuff. So yes.

Finally decided on what to do with chapter titles, so there that goes. Edited the first chapter to fix that. If you get what I'm doing, awesome.

Thanks for the reviews and the warm reception, and again, major thanks to the two betas for all of their superior work.


	3. you're nothing that you seem

Minor spoilers for number 12, for…erm, another later episode that's 20 something. The kiss thing. Sorry, I suck and don't know where it is and my eps are on my computer that crashed. And 11 is post-series, if you're worried about that. No real spoilers, though.

**Spinning on the Edge  
For the 30 ANGSTS challenge  
By DarkenedSakura  
Themes #11-15 (you're nothing that you seem)**

**11. Books (never really mine)**

His eyes took in the last page, lingering over the words. He allowed it to soak in for a moment before he carefully closed the book.

"Katsushirou-sama?" said a voice from the doorway.

He looked up, fingers stilling on the cover. "Kirara-dono."

"You come here a lot lately."

"There isn't much to be done in winter. And with everything finished, there are no tasks necessary for us to partake in.

"I know." She stepped forward. "I just didn't expect you to be here."

"I don't know when I started coming so much, either."

Another step, close enough to see the title emblazoned on the cover, _Love and War_. "Oh, are you reading that?"

A glance at the book. "I just finished it, actually."

"I never expected you to read a book like that," she said, curious.

He shrugged. "Neither did I…I just picked it up, but it was pretty okay."

Step. "A young man meets a young woman. After many things happen with the two of them, they manage to fall in love, or something of the sort. But then a war breaks out, one that the young man just has to fight in. He leaves her but promises to come back."

"And he doesn't."

A last step. "No, he doesn't. The story ends in tragedy."

They were now merely a few feet apart, staring at each other. "I came back, though, didn't I?"

Her eyes shifted slightly. "It's not our story."

"Isn't that a good thing?" He turned abruptly and pulled out another volume while shelving the one he held. "None of it was," he said as he left.

Her eyes softened as she watched him depart, and she looked again at the book he left behind. "Love and War…not our story, is it?"

She sighed.

* * *

**12. Chemistry (electric shock)**

Bonds held them together.

Ionic bonds held the samurai together, the strongest of bonds between elements of opposing charges. While the seven of them might have been of opposite forces crashing and mingling together, they had one central ambition – to combine forces, to pool together their strength, to unite for the sake of Kanna Village. Some took instead of giving, some gave instead of taking, but it all boiled down to what kept them together in the end.

A covalent bond held him and his sensei together. Strong yet weak, weak yet strong, a powerful figure and devoted disciple to stern teacher and strong-willed student; it came and went with the electrons, the things they shared between themselves that went back and forth at will. Dissolvable with water, like hydrolysis. Dissolvable by water, by her.

What held him and the mikumari maiden together? Seventy kinds of somethings and nothings, fifty things standing between them, twenty things that kept them together. Polarity. The oxygen and hydrogen atoms in water attracted and repelled each other, stuck to each other, adhered to what was around them.

What happened to a bond that started to destroy itself from within, from its atoms and particles vying for release?

It would break.

* * *

**13. Physics (poison by you)**

He defied gravity. They defied the laws of nature. That's what she thought. The way they leapt around, the way their swords moved at inhuman speeds and still managed to gleam to show that yes, they were the ones that cut up those guys back there, the way they jumped incredible heights – didn't the laws of physics apply to them at all?

And for the most part it was all right when she watched the other samurai do what they did, leaping and slicing and dicing, because she _knew_ they'd be all right, or even if she was just a little bit nervous then at least she hoped they'd be all right because that's all she could do, anyway. But when she saw Katsushirou take a plunge down the side of a cliff an unsettling feeling of panic would set in and she would be just a little bit anxious and he most definitely wasn't as experienced as the other samurai and would he be able to –

And then he would pop back like an old penny, as though it had been no big deal at all, and he was just as good as the others and if they could jump into the gorges of no return and reappear as if it was as natural as breathing, albeit slightly heavily, then by all means he could too.

It never stopped her from worrying, though.

* * *

**14. Kiss (tears of blood)**

The kiss was everything it was supposed to be.

Except for the part where her eyes were wide and shaking and he realized that it was all wrong and he must've made a mistake god she must've been hoping for _that person _instead and as he ran away he wondered, what happened?

The kiss was everything it was supposed to be. Sadness and rejection. Something like that.

He wasn't really expecting anything from it, anyway. That was all it was supposed to be.

* * *

**15. First Time (rival or lover?)**

First times aren't always the best. First times don't always last. First crushes, first infatuations, first loves – they all come and go. They rarely last forever. Some like to remember them, some like to forget.

He isn't sure about his.

Some think back with fondness, with a smile. Some feel bitter, haunted. For some, what a mistake it was, why had they been in love with _that_ person, what was with their taste back then, why had they fallen for that person, did they really think they had a chance?

He asks himself that sometimes as well.

Memories of first kisses, chaste or deep, lips or cheek, sloppy and inexperienced or natural and perfectly fitting. A little bit of nervousness, a small feeling of belonging, a bit of solace from pain.

He thinks of a shocked expression, of widened eyes, of himself running away from everything he was afraid of.

First heartbreak.

Sometimes, first loves never last.

Sometimes, these things happen more than just sometimes.

* * *

Har, halfway there. Well, not counting the bonus themes, at least.

Notes for number 12, if you're interested: an ionic bond is the strongest type of bond between atoms because it is between two elements of opposite charges that balance each other out. They complete each other's outer valance shells because one of the elements will give or take excess valance electrons to or from the other to complete its shell and the other element's shell at the same time. A covalent bond is weaker and has elements that share pairs of electrons so that the outermost shells can be complete, and some are dissolvable by water. A polar covalent is a bond where the shared pairs are drawn towards one element more than another, because of electronegativity and other things. A notable one is the molecule for water, H(2)0. It has special properties, since water adheres to any surface it's on and sticks to other water molecules because of its polarity, among other things.

Finally, chemistry class was useful. Stupid trimester class…anyway, thanks for the reviews, and yes, authors who post instead of leaving their writing on their hard drives like reviews, haha. Thanks again to the betas, 'cause you all rock.


	4. I'm drowning in your vanity

No spoilers again, but 16 is after the whole thing around ep 22 or so, and 20 is right before the end of the series.

**Spinning on the Edge  
For the 30 ANGSTS challenge  
By DarkenedSakura  
Themes #16-20 (I'm drowning in your vanity)**

**16. Appropriate; Are you Sure? (against temptation)**

"Yukino-san?"

"It's a nice night, isn't it?"

"…Aa."

"…You're still thinking about him and what happened tonight, aren't you?"

"I can't help it, Yukino-san. It's hard not to."

"You knew he was in love with you, didn't you?"

No answer.

"Really, you two would've made such a cute couple."

Pause. "I…wasn't sure what he thought. I don't know why."

A knowing smile. "_You_ don't know what you think about him, do you?"

"…Maybe that's true."

"Sometimes it's hardest to know what you feel yourself, even when everyone else knows it."

"But you and Shichiroji-sama – "

"Him? Ara, that's completely different. He's just a lazy – "

Laughter. "You two are so sweet together. Really."

"You really think so, eh?"

"Yes."

"But as for you…I don't know if you know what I think, but it's never too late. He'll always care for you."

"But I still…for Kambei-sama…"

A sigh of a smile. "The ones that understand the us least really are ourselves, deep inside, eh? Don't worry too much; everything will be all right in the end, okay?"

"I guess…"

"So are you sure about your decision?"

Pause. "Y…Yes. Yes, I have to. Thank you, Yukino-san."

A sigh, long after the girl left. "It's good that the young are so resilient. She'll need to be for what's coming up for her."

* * *

**17. Eto…; Hmmmm… (engulf by darkness)**

It had been a long day hunting for other samurai with his sensei, and Katsushirou was relieved when he finally reached their shelter. Today's unsuccessful search didn't feel particularly encouraging.

Perhaps the others would be back as well. Could they have found anyone? Maybe, just maybe, their luck was better than his.

He stepped into the doorway. "I'm back – "

Something whisked by him, long flowing hair flying by in its wake.

It caused him to spin around, making him reach out his hand. "Ano…"

"Where's Kambei-sama? How did the search today go?" Kirara asked as she continued to run outside, past him.

"Eto…"

The sound of running footsteps faded out of hearing range, as did her voice.

Slowly, he let his hand drop.

* * *

**18. Photograph (lost you forever)**

There were several moments that made him smile, made him remember with a certain fondness some of the times he had with her. They were mostly fleeting images; her smiling, her laughing, her being impressed with something, her with a caring expression.

And then there were those little scenes he remembered, the ones with just him and her, the ones where she cared and worried for him so much, walked with him, made promises to him, really looked at him with that something in her eyes. Small emotions and feelings for him and him alone.

The first time she smiled at him and he could clearly see her brown irises. When they walked through the city and she wore a slight blush. When she had a pained expression, clasping her hands tightly as though she was praying for him. When her eyes held depths deeper than how she cut into his very being. When the light fell on her face in a way that took his breath away and jerked it back into him like a knife.

He held onto them tightly, painfully, like photographs to his heart, because they were all that he really had, would really ever have. Mere bittersweet nothings and empty smiles to his heart.

And they would have to be enough, because she wasn't going to give him anything else.

* * *

**19. Cry; Sadness (always…)**

Smoke rose over the horizon as the samurai and the mikumari maiden walked along the path in the village. "The people of your village suffer greatly because of the Nobuseri, don't they?" Katsushirou said.

"Those bandits keep us alive only to grow and harvest the rice that they take from us because they don't make it themselves," she said acidly. "They take nearly everything and leave us only enough to keep us alive." Katsushirou moved to say something, but she continued, cutting him off. "The times when our young starved, where their parents looked on feeling the agony of not being able to do anything, where the elders didn't know what to do..."

If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the air, heavy with the suffocating weight of helplessness. He could see the villagers' faces as they struggled to survive. He could see the despair in the people's faces, if he tried.

The priestess continued on. "But the villagers are strong. They get by and persevere."

"There are strong people in this village that encourage the others, I think."

"Perhaps so."

A beat. "It's not right, the powerful bullying the weak. We'll stop this."

Kirara looked up at him.

"It's a samurai's duty to do so."

She blinked, looking into his serious, solemn eyes, and smiled.

* * *

**20. Violence; War (marriage of death)**

The night winds seemed to stop blowing as she turned to him and asked, a note of disbelief in her voice, "Will you really leave soon?"

The youngest samurai, the one who had matured and finally grown up, stood stoically. His eyes had changed. Once he was as readable as a book, but now…she wasn't sure what he hid behind his expressions. And she wasn't sure she wanted to think about it.

He started to speak. "My work here is done. There are more people out there that need help or liberation. There are many wars to be fought elsewhere, wars that will inevitably start soon. I must leave in the near future."

Do you know how much it tortures me to be staying here, with you yet not with you?

She looked down. "So there is nothing we can do to stop you," she murmured.

"No." Nothing you can give.

"…Will you ever come back?"

He paused, blinked, then softened slightly. "Maybe."

Maybe not.

* * *

The suffix –san is basically the equivalent of Mr. or Mrs. In English. Nobuseri is what the bandits are called…I'm pretty sure the dub and several subs completely translate that, so just in case. And eto is just a sound, like "uhm..." or something like that. Ano, in this, is basically the same. Ara goes along the lines of "oh" or "ah" in certain situations.

I just noticed that this fic might never have had a disclaimer up…oops. Well, it's a given that S7 is most definitely not owned by me.

I suck at updating. These themes are all done and sitting on my hard drive, but yeah. Though, the last 10 are in need of massive revisions, so those might take slightly more time.

Authors like reviews. Take my word for it. :D

Thanks again to all the readers, and the awesome editors. 'Cause without you…well, you can fill in the blank.


	5. your laugh is a disease

As for spoilers, 21 is post series, and 25 is near the end.

**Spinning on the Edge  
For the 30 ANGSTS challenge  
By DarkenedSakura  
Themes #21-25 (your laugh is a disease)**

**21. Lost Memories (touching the illusion)**

Winter nights were usually never as severe as the ones from the winter after the Nobuseri's defeat, but this one was an exception. Kirara buried herself further into her shawl but pushed onwards, stopping only when she reached the hill. The weather couldn't keep her from making her daily pilgrimage here; nor would time and aging memories.

Today, however, she was not alone. A stranger stood there as though he was made of stone, garbed in a long hooded cloak.

Why did he seem so familiar?

Ignoring the feeling of prickling unease growing at the back of her neck, she walked up the hill so that she stood right behind the stranger. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

He turned as a seasoned traveler would, as though he sensed her presence a long time ago and had already determined that she was not a threat. Slowly, he flipped back his hood and said, "Don't you remember me?"

She gasped slightly, her grip on the shawl loosening. A shiver went down her spine as several thoughts and emotions ran through her head all at once. "Katsushirou-sama?"

Battle weary eyes, travel-worn countenance, tired quirk of the mouth. "So you do." He stepped towards her.

Memories passed by her eyes, things she recalled and things she did not, things she put behind her and things she dutifully kept in the back of her mind.

He noticed the flickering in her eyes. "You don't remember it anymore, do you," he stated, moving closer again.

She could only stare back in reply.

His voice came like a whisper in her ear, breath against her neck. "It never meant much, did it?"

Silence, pierced by the whistling of wind.

A lingering touch on the cheek, a ghost of a kiss on the lips. "A good thing, I suppose, since we didn't have much anyway."

His cloak swirled about him as he turned his back to her. "I wish you well, Kirara-dono."

He disappeared into the snows in the same way that he came from them, fading into the mists of time.

* * *

**22. Once upon a time (you are never here for once)**

Once upon a time is a phrase that means "here and now," which people like because it does not say so outright, because confronting that would be too much to bear.

Once upon a time, a maiden came to the city to search for warriors to protect her village. She found seven of them, one of them who was soon enamored with her. After many trials, tribulations, and the samurai defeating the evil bandits and securing the safety of the village, the maiden overcame all odds and fell in love with him as well. And they all lived happily ever after.

Once upon a time. Here and now. Past and present.

Once upon a time, there was such a thing as a happy ending. Once upon a time used to mean there was a happily ever after. But those only existed for children, when they were children.

Katsushirou is not a child, not a young boy, anymore.

Katsushirou hates fairy tales.

* * *

**23. Black Roses (red funeral)**

Katsushirou had nightmares.

He fought an endless tirade of enemies in a sea of white. It always started that way.

Bloodlust was dangerous, yet his mind always shifted to that mode of blind slash-and-hack in the midst of battle. At least then he wasn't aware of what he should've thought when he looked into the eyes of his enemies as he cut them down.

The crimson that flowed from his kills sprayed all over the endless field of white roses, staining them dark with death until the very air itself seemed to be misted in a red night. And then he would be dimly aware of the fact that perhaps he lost control, and then – please stop don't do this – was that her blood dripping onto the blackened roses?

He wasn't sure if she was dead or alive but he would be all too aware of how her body lay amid feathery black petals, stirring the rosehips and waking them from their eternal still night.

Katsushirou had nightmares that he could never wake from.

* * *

**24. Blush (no future)**

They were out on another one of their nightly strolls. When he talked about the work he accomplished that day with his sensei, a faint tinge of pink-red bloomed on her cheeks. He wondered what it meant, when he noticed it at all.

He mostly ignored it, though something gnawed at the back of his mind. Something important that he couldn't ignore.

But for the most part, he still ignored it.

---------------

Shichiroji watched their outlines move in the dark as he poked at the fire with a long stick. "You should tell her sometime, if you're planning to do what you're going to do. Can't let a girl like her hang onto nonexistent hope like that."

Kambei did not respond, merely staring into the flames.

* * *

**25. To touch the Devil is to die (dying from bliss)**

She knew that she had fallen into sin. The murky water in the pendant confirmed it. Duties neglected and love and lust…they were all parts of it.

The choices were the most important parts of it, though, the most important causes of it. The choices she made, the ones she did not. Decisions that, if she had made them correctly, would've given her something more than what she ended up getting, would've kept hearts from breaking.

Ignoring her duty, she followed one with her eyes and her feelings, managing to reject the other without saying anything outright. While she ignored the feeling that she knew it was wrong, it got her so far in the wrong direction at the same time.

Giving in to temptation and trying to reach what tainted fruit it could yield merely killed everything around her instead.

* * *

For some reason, I'm not so happy with this batch...hm. Oh well. 

I think I said it wouldn't take me this long to update again last time, or something. I hope I didn't, because I just went and took nearly three weeks again. It's just that argh my finals are coming up, I'm ladened with work and any intelligence I have doesn't cover for the fact that I am incredibly lazy, I've been having chronic headaches, school newspaper and story contest deadlines with me being the editor…and to be honest, this fic is low on my list of priorities. I finished all 30 themes in the first place, and the other fic, art, and icons projects of mine are of higher priority for various reasons including feedback, requests, people prodding me with sharp sticks, and the like.

Sorry about that. Two more bonus themes to go and everything will be posted. Though, the last five themes are in need of extreme revisions, so yes.

Major thanks to the beta, and reviewing is sublime, ahaha.


	6. you're dirty and you're sweet

No real spoilers, but 28 and 29 take place at the same time at the near-end of the series, and 30 has hints of what the resolution to the series' love triangle is.

**Spinning on the Edge  
For the 30 ANGSTS challenge  
By DarkenedSakura  
Themes #****26-30 (you're dirty and you're sweet)**

**26. Under your skin (surreal reality)**

Being as young as he was, everything prickled him, made him notice, made him care, but nothing ever really got to him in that deep way. Nothing affected him so much, and nothing was supposed to.

And then, things slowly started to change.

The fighting pervaded his senses, and he grew used to the feeling of having cold steel under his fingers. While he hardened, death got under his skin and became a part of him.

There was only one more thing that got to him at a level that deep.

But while she pervaded his senses as well, he could never get under her skin the way she got under his.

* * *

**27. Line between Love and Hate (Dying just for you)**

He loved her, he was sure of it. Loved her enough that it hurt. Was too aware of every little beautiful thing about her, from her smile to her eyes to her countenance to everything in between. Was too aware of every little painful thing that she did, her promises and sacrifices and tears.

Loved her so much he hated it, hated knowing that no matter what happened and what he did that she could never be in his league. Knowing that was what happened and that he still had the same feelings for her and yet he _still_ couldn't develop any resentment towards her, towards the situation.

He hated that.

She blurred the line between love and hate. And yet, she defined it more strongly at the same time. He still couldn't decide which was worse.

He definitely hated that.

* * *

**28. Tensai or Baka? (cause of nature)**

When she had walked by them a few minutes ago, Kambei and Katsushirou had been talking in low tones. She smiled, especially when she thought about the older one of the two. The teacher with the student. The experienced veteran with the rookie. The genius and the…well, the more inexperienced one. Yes, Kambei-sama was the genius for sure.

Later, it was that night, the one where teacher and student stood opposite each other for the last time. But no longer was it the same relationship as before, nor with the same people involved. There was a new air about the younger samurai, something she only sensed from the others before now. The sharpness of his senses, the way he seemed to see everything and see through them all at the same time, the way his aura _felt_.

When she looked at him, a little voice in the back of her mind said, "Is he still that rookie now? Who is the idiot now?"

Tensai and baka, indeed.

It didn't take a genius to figure that out.

* * *

**29. Fire; Water; Earth; Metal; Wood (one last dinner)**

The blade seemed to cut the very night itself as he wielded it. He had been sharpening his blade earlier in the day and now he was practicing with it. She could hear the whistling of the metal through the air as she stood outside the doorway before going up to him.

"The meal is ready," she said.

"Aa…thank you, Kirara-dono," he said, before he turned back to his sword.

--l--

Though he had gingerly brushed himself off, he still tracked in snow upon the wooden floor, snow that melted as he passed over the threshold and sat down with the others. She had already dished out the rice by then.

Dinner was a somber affair that night. While Kirara slowly picked at her food, she couldn't help but think that something was…different, tonight. And the glances from Katsushirou to Kambei to Shichiroji and back and forth again only enforced that thought. She fiddled with her pendant behind the table, observing the patterns of water through it.

"Excuse me," Katsushirou said as he nodded and rose from the table.

The water seemed to flow in several directions at once.

Kirara looked at the pendant again, and understood.

--l--

After he had gathered together everything of his that was worth taking, he moved slowly towards his destination. He meandered along the forest paths draped in sheets of white and up the mountain trails whose disturbed rock and rubble still remained on the sides, before getting around to the hill.

He bowed in solemn silence. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Entombed within the earth until the end of their eternity, earning their positions there for the work that they did.

He remained in respectful silence until the soft footsteps he had been waiting for came.

She had merely hoped she wouldn't be too late.

"So this is goodbye, isn't it?" they could see in each other's eyes, though it was never said, never needed to be said.

And after all was said and done and he turned and walked back down the hill and out of sight for the very last time, one word lingered in his wake, burned into her thoughts with his flame. One word of farewell.

"Sayounara."

* * *

**30. Angsts (seeing you and the other)**

Almost from the very moment that she saw _him_ first, she knew, and had the grace to blush because of it. Even if it was hopeless, she would keep trying, trying to catch his eye, trying to make him see that it wasn't the younger one she cared for, it was him.

And she thought that Katsushirou liked her greatly, had an inkling of it. No…she knew. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew, and hid that knowledge away so she could continue to deny it. So she could continue to deny the fact that yes, she knew she would eventually break his heart and no, she didn't know why she continued to reject him inwardly.

When events came to a head, there was no consolation for her. She shattered Katsushirou's hopes, while _he_ outright rejected her. Shattered everything she had built up, destroyed her illusions, unjustified what she had done to get where she was now. And while they both grew or moved on, she was left behind. Again, as usual.

She was strong. She could take it, get over it, grow and move on from it. And in the end, perhaps it would give her release and set her back on the path with the younger one. When and where they took the different forks in the road, she didn't know. But everything she could've wanted had really been there all along, with him, with that second path. Wasn't that what so many people had said to her? Why hadn't she listened?

Maybe it wasn't too late. Nothing was ever too late.

Perhaps there was a chance for hope.

--l--

Perhaps it was too late.

--l--

* * *

Vocab: tensai is genius, and baka is idiot. Sayounara, with that extra 'u', is less of 'goodbye' and more of 'farewell, we'll never see each other again'.

Honestly? Even though I finished all of these themes at least months ago, I completely lost interest. S7 isn't one of my main fandoms, I think my angst themes are cheesy and geh, and yeah. Lack of responses doesn't really help much either. But, then I got reminded of it and I really do want to complete my claim officially, so here it is. I like 29, definitely...if people see the double theme work, I'll be happy, haha.

Technically, with this, my claim is complete and I'm done. However, as I'm as masochistic and as much of a completionist as they come, I'm doing the five bonus themes. Those will be up soon, I think. I hope.

But I think my (super awesome) beta hit it on the head for me, the problem I've been having with these themes. They're all the same. Wah, angst about the same situation in merely different words. And I really should've realized that this would be a problem later, but…well, I didn't, and whoops. It won't happen with the last five.

So yeah…reviews are appreciated, critiques as well, etc. (Sorry, I'm brain dead and stressed though school is over and I have nothing witty to say.)


	7. you know you're everything to me

An author's note on the characters: hm, am I the only one who thought that Kirara was merely naïve and young and didn't mean to be as malicious as she ended up being, or didn't even know what she did until it was too late? Just wondering. In the end, while she's not the biggest favorite of mine, I would probably defend her.

Hm, spoilers…31 is at the almost-end, and the others are all vague enough to not really have specific spoilers, and 35 might have semi-spoilers for that episode in the 20s. And it's long, the longest piece out of all 35 of them.

**Spinning on the Edge  
For the 30 ANGSTS challenge  
By DarkenedSakura  
Themes #****31-35 (you know you're everything to me)**

**31. Cold (bloody destiny)**

Cold was something he encountered enough.

Cold was the first time he tasted steel, felt it bite into his skin. How could metal be so cold, he wondered. How could it stay at that temperature and still be wielded by human hands? Who was the fool who realized it could be used to destroy, to slice through skin and tendons and ligaments, so easily?

Cold was the first winter in Kanna Village. The villagers themselves remarked on the fact that there had been more snow that year than in most that they could remember. It was okay when he warmed up by practicing with his sword, but there were still other elements out of his control that chilled him to the core.

Cold was how her eyes looked so many times when they looked straight at him. When she said no, Katsushirou-sama, you don't understand, you don't understand anything. Not about us, not about the village, not about Kambei-sama, not about me. Not about anything at all.

And when the first signs of the thaw came, he had finally had enough of the cold.

Time for a change of climate, he knew.

* * *

**32. Black (sleeping in the red)**

Kyuuzou came and went as he pleased, everyone knew. If he wasn't on a mission or training the villagers it was as though he disappeared, but the moment he was needed it was as though he reappeared by magic, as if he had read their minds and felt how he was needed.

Some of the time, he sat under the same tree in the forest, one at a junction that allowed him to see much of what was happening without being close to it. A red figure that managed to blend in camouflaged against dark brown bark.

He liked it that way. And tonight, he would very much appreciate the undisturbed quiet.

Sensing movement, he looked up. Two shadows swept past him in the darkness, not knowing he was there. The mikumari and that interesting youngster, probably.

He had been observing their chase for a while now, and idly wondered how long it would take her to get it. She was probably smarter than that, he thought. Besides, they disturbed the peace. Defeated the purpose of him sitting under the tree by himself. He did not want to get involved.

The shadows slowed down to walking speed and settled next to each other. The middling distance between them spoke for their embarrassment, for their blushing youth. Or, perhaps, for both of the truths that they knew, hers and his. Though, it would take time for him to catch on that she was only with him out of courtesy, not out of love.

He did feel a twinge of pity for the boy, though. Just a bit.

* * *

**33. Kill (house of pain)**

Gorobei could only smile sadly at him. A boy dealing with his first kill was always something that brought out some compassion from him. But this was something Katsushirou would get over soon, would grow from as he progressed and became the outstanding warrior he knew he'd be.

But a boy chasing dreams fated to end in disaster brought out more feelings of pity from Gorobei than he himself would ever know.

He always meant to talk to Kambei about it. But he was sure that Shichiroji had already addressed it at one point or another, and his job was to know and discuss tactics, nothing more. Though, the welfare of his comrades and friends should also be just as important.

The other thing was that Gorobei knew that Kambei also knew, because Kambei was the sort of guy that would know and there was no way he couldn't have known already. And he also knew what Kambei's feelings on the matter regarding her were, too. But as to why the man hadn't gone and told her or ended the problem or anything, he didn't know.

And yet…it would be something akin to cruelty to bring it up to the boy. He wouldn't even listen to him, even if he tried to say anything.

He glanced over and saw the water maiden cleaning the blood from his face, and smiled sadly again, for the moment was sure to end.

* * *

**34. Teddy bear (demon master)**

He blinks for a moment, stares at the little ball of fluff sitting at the doorstep. It's a strange thing, he thinks…a doll, perhaps? He picks it up, prods at what he assumes is its head, its stomach. He tugs at the small ears on either side of the head, glances at the black dots for its eyes.

"Katsushirou-sama?" a timid voice says.

He turns around. "Oh, Kirara-dono. Ah. I just found this – " he holds out the plushie " – here, and I'm not sure which child it belongs to. Is it Komachi's?"

"Ah, no…" She blushes slightly. "Actually, it's mine."

"Yours?" he says, a little bit confused.

"My mother was a good seamstress and made many of the dolls for the girls...this was the last toy that she made for me before she and my father…passed away." She sees him opening his mouth again, but continues on. "Komachi must have taken it on accident, or something like that…"

"Ah, I guess so." He stares at the ground for a second. "I'll see you tonight, then."

She gives him her farewell also, but drifts off into the memories locked into the stuffed animal she is now clutching in her arms, as a vacant, preoccupied look settles on her face.

Katsushirou smiles, a small bitter smile for a moment, remembering family.

He walks away.

* * *

**35. Haha…… (secret passage)**

"There's nothing more to say."

"But - !"

"You're excused," he said coolly.

Katsushirou sighed, bowed stiffly in deference, and walked away.

--l--

Eighteen years should have been enough to teach him that he just couldn't win an argument with someone whose position was so elevated beyond his, and a merchant to boot. However, he had always hoped the fact that the man was his father would even out their struggle.

Hope wasn't truth, though. The man who groveled before his father as his life's savings were taken away, hoping that the ruthless smile was merely a ploy, an illusion, that he actually had a heart – he was one who knew the reality of that statement all too well. In addition to his starving son, and his weeping wife. Not that they would ever believe that the merchant's son could ever understand it also.

Sighing in frustration, he picked up his sword. Training would help. He had hardly been taught, and not even particularly well at that, due to his father's belief that learning the way of the samurai was pathetic for a merchant's son and that Katsushirou wasn't eight years old any more.

Slash, hack, slash. The air parted before his sword, much like it did before his father's girth and power.

The air never sang for that man, though, like it did for him.

A knock on the door. "Katsushirou, are you there?"

Slash, hack, hack, slash. Only one person called him by just his name, and if it really was her, she'd know to come in.

The door swung open without a creak. Perhaps the maids finally oiled the door.

Slash.

"Katsushirou."

Hack, hack, hack.

Before he could swing his sword any more, the woman gently grasped his hands and loosened his fingers. She slid the hilt out of his grip and laid it delicately by its sheath.

"Mother? What?"

She looked at him, her eyes, large and sad and blue with the calm before a storm, and he fell silent.

"Your father is furious."

"I'm not surprised."

"He was really hoping that this time, you would…accept the future of being a merchant."

"He wants me to become something that I will never concede to, something that would torment my conscience forever."

"Not all merchants are bad," she said, as though she was pleading, but he knew better.

"The ones working beneath Father are. And if I take up working for him, I'll be beneath him, and he'll see it as…victory."

It was almost as if the air itself was saying, _This isn't going to work_.

"I know," his mother said.

"I can't do this."

"I know."

Pause.

Katushirou sighed. "He…gave me an ultimatum. If I don't take the apprenticeship, then…"

_Eighteen is too old for a man to not have a productive job. And the only productive job is…_

She spoke softly. "Neither of you will be able to sit across the table and look each other in the eye civilly, at this rate."

_Did we ever?_ they let the air wonder.

"Katsushirou…I think…"

"What, Mother?"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I think you should leave."

"Mother!" He tried to come up with something coherent to say. "What do you mean?"

"Hear me out, Katsushirou. You will never willingly become a merchant. Your father will never let you become anything else. The hate between the both of you has rotted everything else. And in the end, your father…he always wins. He'll have his way."

Silence.

"And you won't have a chance at happiness."

He looked at her, eyes pleading, and she knew better.

"Don't worry about me," she smiled. "I'll be fine here. Your father loves me."

_He doesn't love _you

"But…"

"Katsushirou. Look at me."

His eyes snapped upwards.

"I love you. I want what's best for you. I always have."

His head whirled. "I haven't even been out farther than this city…I don't…"

A smile played at the corner of her mouth. "I'm surprised that you're so…reluctant. I thought that you had always been planning to leave home at some point."

He blinked. "Well…yes, but…"

"Then what more is there to say?"

_This is the only way._

He looked her square in the eye, and nodded.

"Then you should leave tonight."

"I understand."

His fists relaxed only after she had left.

--l--

His mother had always been a beautiful woman. Meek and quiet in all appearances, she was quite the free spirit underneath instead. But in their society, a woman like her always went to the highest-bidding suitor, and so she was married to his father.

He had never asked if their marriage was a happy one. His mother was always a better actress than he could ever comprehend. The first time she had covered for him, hiding his face in the folds of her robe while she calmly, sternly, and manipulatively talked his father down until his face lost its redness, he couldn't believe it was her. And then there was a second, a third, and more than a fourth time, so he started to let it sink in a little bit more.

Many women lost that skin-deep beauty a decade after their marriages. His mother, however, always had that radiance that nothing could touch. And in addition, she was the kindest person he knew. The kindest person to him.

She was all that he had, and he was almost the same to her. Personally, he wasn't sure if she loved his father or not, but he never bothered to ask because she could've answered however she'd have liked and he still wouldn't be able to tell if it was the truth.

She was all that he had, and now he was going to walk away.

He had her permission.

How much did that mean?

--l--

There was no one to say goodbye to. The maids and workers at their mansion were like shadows that could hardly be seen; the sons of other merchants were as greedy and pig-faced as their fathers, and equally as derisive of Katsushirou.

He had a sword, a change or two of clothes, a pouch of money, another one of gold sewed into his bag, just in case, which his mother believed he'd probably have to tap into once the first one was stolen, and a small carved stone which his mother gave him long ago.

His father was having a business dinner with several other merchants tonight, and Katsushirou and his mother weren't expected to be there. So he sat down and waited for the inevitable to come to him instead, which manifested in a knock on a the door.

She stepped inside, depositing the tray on the table and a bundle next to it. "Everything you probably forgot about packing," she responded when he looked at her questioningly. "Hurry and eat, it's probably best if you leave as early as possible."

"But not through the front door."

"No."

"Then…"

"Maybe you've forgotten. You used to play around it as a child."

--l--

Once, when he was young, he was pretending to explore the house and managed to fall out of what he could only remember as a secret chute or door, something that he couldn't get back through; his mother had been the only one who knew where to look when her son failed to appear for lunch.

Afterwards, it was the one hallway that he never bothered to journey through ever again, saying that it was the enemy's hideout and that was how they trapped him in the first place and that the enemy's hideout always had to be saved for last, while putting it out of mind. But before he remembered, he grew up and grew out of the game and forgot about it for good.

His father, calculating sums and profits and costs, never noticed, never knew.

--l--

He made a note to count how many back door exits there actually were the next time he was in a merchant's home.

Never mind that, next time he should ask how many doors the merchant was aware of, or if he even knew of any besides the servants' exit in the winding hallways in the back that he never bothered to inspect.

Katsushirou followed his mother through the corridors of smudged dusty lanterns, faded gold tapestries, dusty must, and shadows in the dark. Candlelight flickered against the walls and he could've probably seen his childhood monsters that he fought and may or may not have conquered if he tried.

His mother moved deftly through the maze and the question arose in his mind of how she managed to remember this route along with everything else she took care of, but before he could contemplate the answer she suddenly stopped and glanced at him. She gestured at the door and he thought, but –

"Go through and follow the alleys until you reach the innermost part of the city, and then go where you will. It's probably best if you can leave here as soon as possible and head for another place, perhaps even as far as Kougakyo if you can."

"Mother – "

"You should probably be able to make it to the gates by early morning, or at least to an inn on the outskirts where you can stay quietly."

"Mother."

She looked at him, fondly. "Katsushirou. You'll be a great samurai, one that will make me proud."

_So go already, before she does something silly like cry over you, because you've never seen her shed a tear before._

He bowed his head, tugged harder on the straps of his rucksack. "I'll come back one day, Mother. I'll come back."

And then they whispered I love you and goodbye and everything that put those childhood weepy stories he ever heard to shame before he turned the knob and stepped past the threshold of all that he knew.

Katsushirou looked back, seeing the hallway edged in the dim moonlight from beyond the door and his mother's long hair swaying slowly from the wind, and then he turned away and shut the door behind him.

--l--

The alley is the same as the hallway with the light at the end like the door and she's just as beautiful as his mother and she doesn't say goodbye or wish him well, but he still has the feeling that he'll never really see her ever again.

That look of farewell in her eyes is barely there, but it's enough to tell him that his decision of walking away for the second time is the right one.

He takes a breath, and steps into the doorway. And this time, he doesn't think twice about leaving behind a beautiful woman in his life and a powerful respectable man that he grew to hate and a hit or miss or miserable future that might've been his.

Besides, this time around it's probably not love that's what's left between them, anyway.

--l--

* * *

No Japanese vocab ended up in #35, somehow. It turned out insanely long (1,825+ words – more than a flash fic), but I'm incredibly happy that I replaced the original #35 with this one. I think it's probably my favorite.

And with this, I've managed to successfully mention every samurai. I wasn't sure how to pack in those last two, but…ha, got them in somehow.

Sometimes, even though I had all of these themes finished ages ago (yes, I know you're tired of me saying this, sorry, I guess it's a 'but wait, I really did write them that wasn't the problem!' defense mechanism), I wondered if I'd ever finish and post them all.

Well, now it's done, so…there we go.

Lyrics to each of the chapter titles were from Dizzy by The Goo Goo Dolls. Many, many, many many thanks go to the beta who stuck through with this the entire time, rasetsunyo, who also picked up on all of the little (and big) things that I would've kicked myself over later. And thanks to the reviewers as well. Comments are still greatly appreciated, since this is the end of the road.

Thanks again for reading and sticking through these 35 themes. :)


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